Hate
by Caffie
Summary: More mature than the average AAMRN. - Abandoned, free for continuation by another - 2 Chapters
1. Hatred

Hate

Disclaimer: NOT MINE!! However, dis lil plot is mine… aaaaand, it is open for other people to finish it for me, as I most likely never will.

This lil story was written while I was on vacation earlier this year (like, August) and I finally just got around to typing it up (I'm lazy. Plus I had loads of school-work)

I will pretty much never finish this story, so I may leave it as it is, but I would like it if someone could give a go at possibly writing more of it for me, I just don't have the time anymore.

This was meant to be my second 'chapter-fic', but seeing as I have problems with doing them, and one shot fics are more my style, neither this one or the first part of my other long haul fic will be finished, unless someone reallllly wants to finish them for me. Pwease?

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"You know what?"

"What?!"

"I hate you so much"

"Yeah, well, I hate you to hell and back!"

"I hate you! I hate anything and everything about you!"

"I hate you more, you stupid carrot-head, you've ruined everything!"

Silence, a gap from the screaming voices. Then.

"Oh, just sod off."

More silence, then a hurt voice…

"Happy to, Myst. I hope I never see you again."

"If I ever see you again, it will be too damn soon!" he turned away at her strained, angry voice, then turned back.

"I can't believe I ever ha-" he started

"Just go!" Misty screamed, her own voice finally registering in her head.

"had a relationship with you!" he finished.

More silence, then a venom-filled, deathly quiet comment from her lips

"You know what, you kiss pitifully. I never loved you" she said, her eyes staring him right in the face, her once love-filled eyes now drenched with hate.

He grabbed her tightly around her back, and bought her startled face to his, kissing her brutally.

It was a kiss of pain, of hurt, meant to break her more than words ever could.

His hate became the kiss, his eyes shut, a frown on his forehead, his arms tightly, viciously, circling her slender, fragile waist.

Her eyes stayed open, she couldn't respond, her only emotion seeming to be the hate her eyes glittered harshly with, the hate, and the anger.

He suddenly opened his once sweet brown eyes, and looked straight into Misty's.

His beautiful hazel eyes, which had always seemed to be overfull with passion and love for all, especially Misty, now burned with a deep hatred, a hatred from which nothing but evil came.

The kiss and meeting of eyes managed what the harsh words and even physical fights had not, it broke one of them.

Misty.

As he looked he suddenly saw everything. Saw her heart breaking, saw how much she truly loved him.

He simply dropped her to the floor and walked off, leaving her slumped there, not even remembering when the tears started to flow…

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Mystie Waters sat bolt upright in bed, and reached for the light.

This was a new life, Misty Waterflower is gone, she didn't need this.

As the familiar light cascaded into the room, flooding the room with a pale glow, she shut her eyes tightly.

"It's only a dream…" she murmured, then uncovered her eyes and looked around, still slightly expecting to see his room, and him sleeping beside her, the warm light flowing over his gorgeous features, making her love him even more.

But instead she was met with pastel green walls, grassy bedspreads, cloths, wardrobes and a sleeping Erika in the other of the two single beds in the room.

"Ohmigawd, it's true…" she muttered brokenly, before starting to cry, pulling her emerald blanket up to her tear stained face.

"Myst?" a sleepy voice from across the room shattered the darkness Mystie was falling into, and was followed by a more awake and worried tone of the same voice.

"Gawd, oh gawd, not the dream, gawd, I hate that bastard…" a now fully awake Erika walked over to the sobbing Mystie.

"Myst, was it the dream again? You know, the argument with...?"

"Yes… yes, it was" Mystie gasped out, trying to calm herself down.

Erika started to say something, but was interrupted as a quiet, serious looked girl with long green hair walked in, clutching a cordless phone.

"Rika… use the landline. The mobile bill from here to Pewter will be too much, and you'll be on for hours." The girl said

"Rina, you call them. It's Brock's number, he Tracy, Ritchie and that bastard will be there." Mystie suddenly said, lifting her head to look at her other flat-mate, Sabrina.

"Myst's right. If you go for them, Rika, well, I pity the guy who would answer the phone" Sabrina called back over her shoulder as she strode back to the main room.

"Rika, get some more sleep. I'll be fine, I'm just going out onto the balcony for a while, I need some fresh air." Mystie said in a calm tone, as she walked to her open window, which she proceeded to climb out of and onto a small balcony, which was furnished simply, with a chair, table and portable BBQ.

Mystie stood almost on the edge, leaning on the intricately patterned wrought irons railings, staring off into the deep velvet sky, particularly focusing on one clear star, thinking, absentmindedly muttering to herself, her voice heavy with loneliness, filled with broken love…

"Oh Ash…"

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Doooooone!! There!! That's iiiit!! That's the fic!!

Please leave a review in that sweet lil box just below, it really likes it when you write in it and click the button, it makes the lonely lil box all happy. ^_^

~Cayt


	2. Panic

Okay, nawt mine!! Pokemon is not mine… 

**sigh**.. No matter how hard I try, I can't find the rights to Pokemon in my room.. shame really… I did however find some pencil sharpenings, a pillow-case full of nail varnishes, a Polaroid camera with no film aaaaaaaand: a 4 year old orange…. EWWWWWW!! **runs away from the orange that has definitely sprouted legs, and will probably give chase soon..** -.-;;;

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In the darkness of the Pewter city gym, a phone rang…

A small shuffling, a few bumps, some choice words, and the ringing was stopped.

A sleepy voice droned into the dark "Hello… it's 2am, why on earth are you phoning…."

A loud noise was heard through out the gym, akin to a blaring foghorn.

The voice quickly awoke, and takes on a more familiar tone, but a tone laced with excitement, panic and just a hint of… fear?

"Oh, hi Sabrina! I didn't realise it was you!" Brock stuttered, the fear becoming more apparent with each stammered word…

"Yes.. 'that bastard Ketchum child', as you put it, is still here… oh, Misty's with you?! Misty Waterflower?! … No, I'm not stupid.. I was just checking.. last time I heard Misty was dead… she changed her name? To what? Misty Waters? Misty spelt M…y…s…t…i…e?…. strange….. okay….. Oh wow… I'll have to come visit sometime… " Brock continued

"Oh, you're coming here?! Okay.. when? … 10 minutes?! Damn!! Now I've gotta put clothes on and wake the others up! ….Who's coming? I need to get the rooms ready…. Okay, so there's you… Mystie… Rika? Oh, Erika… anyone else? No? good.. so it's 3 rooms?…. near to each other? Okay…. See you in ten then…"

Brock hung up calmly, then ran towards the others guy's rooms "I need to wake them up!"

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On the other side of Indigo Isle, in an apartment in the center of Celadon City…

Sabrina hung up the phone, and then walked back into Erika's room, where Erika was nestled back in bed, and the window was wide open, allowing her to see the edge of Mystie's robe floating in the breeze

"Get packing, we leave in 10 minutes." Sabrina yelled, knowing how hard it is to wake Erika and bring Mystie out of her day-dreams

"10 minutes?!" a surprised voice exclaimed from the pile of covers on the bed, "How on Earth will I be packed?!"

"You'll manage it, Rika. You always do" Mystie said calmly, as Sabrina left the room.

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Brock ran back into his room, having woken the other boys and got the girl's rooms ready, all in his boxers, of course.

"Gotta get dressed, gotta get dressed, gotta get dressed, Where are my CLOTHES!?!?! Oh yeah, the wardrobe! Gotta find the wardrobe!! Found it!! Gotta find my shirt, gotta find my shirt, found it!! Trousers, trousers, trousers, trousers, A-HAH!!"

Ritchie sat up tiredly, hearing loud yells from Brocks room about ….. clothes!?!?

"Brock?? What the-.. oh yeah, the girls will be here in…"

"A minute! Hurry, hurry, hurry!!" Brock yelled, trying to push Ritchie towards the front door.

"Brock, man, it's past 2am, and you're trying to push me outside in my BOXERS?!? Okay, this is too weird, I'm going back to bed…" Ritchie protested, then jumped out of the crazed boy's grasp and dashed into his room, breaking all records for the fastest running and bolting of a door.

As Brock was standing, open-mouthed, at the door that had just almost flown off it's hinges from Ritchie's speed and hurried locking, the 3 girls appeared before him.

Sabrina stood, hardly the right height for her 21 years of age, being of short stature, despite her fearsome height early on during puberty. Her long green hair hung to her waist, loose and free, but perfectly straight. Her violet eyes flashed slightly as the girls fully materialised, and dropped her small bag at her booted feet.

Erika, who was surrounded by a pile of green bags, barely stood, leaning on Sabrina for support. Her deep blue hair messed out of it's usual style by sleep, her green eyes drooping lazily. Her robe was hanging off one slumped shoulder, showing clearly to Brock that she had not gotten changed, and wasn't planning to either.

Mystie was the one Brock saw the most change in. She looked worn, yet still beautiful, but nothing like her true 19 years of age. She had changed a lot since her younger years, in many ways. Her long, now deep red, hair hung in waves to her slim waist. Her figured had matured, but she hadn't grown much vertically, leaving her short for her age. She also held herself differently, showing more grace and less of her violent temper in her posture and fluid movements. The biggest change, however, was in her eyes. As she looked up at Brock, her eyes blinking in almost disbelief, he saw all the pain that had forced her change. As he looked, unmoving into her deep blue eyes, haunted by sadness, with an air of internal turmoil that Brock soon leant never disappeared.

As Brock stared at Mystie, she stared back, nowhere near as surprised.

Sure, the last time she had seen Brock he had been 19, and she an immature 16, but he hadn't changed much. He had grown taller, a little, but he still had the wild hair, squinty eyes, tanned skin and horrendous brown trousers of years ago. However, he had grown more muscular, ditched those terrible orange shirts and green vests, and seemed, well, more mature personality wise too.

Mystie broke out of her stare first, and ran to her childhood friend, hugging him tightly, tears cascading from her eyes.

"Brock! It's you! It's really you!" she cried, as Brock dazedly put his arms around the sobbing girl, trying to comfort her…

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### TBC…


End file.
